as·pi·ra·tion Eiji Nīzuma
by Spockanalia
Summary: You once held my cheek and told me i had a "gift".I never asked for a "gift" like this, I'm not special, I'm not gifted.Why can't everyone look at me for me? OCxEiji


A straight line scratched across the paper. Books opened to certain pages, piled across the desk. A quiet sigh showed signs of life in the messy ,disordered room. Tugging hair back behind the ear, and wiping sweat from the brow with the other hand, dissatisfaction festooned in the air. Picking up the stylus again, continuing to make more marks on the paper, the ink ran. Hard work was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. "Dinner is ready", the feminine voice behind the door spoke. The stylus was put down and a grunt could barely be heard. Shuffling of feet towards the door. It opened revealing a time-aged face, a mother. The mother gave a glance before walking away, down the stairs and into the kitchen. The door closed, a hand rested on the knob. The hand let go of the knob, the palm turned up, being examined. Dried ink stained the palm. A cry was heard from the kitchen, a family waiting to eat, hungry cries spread through the house like pollen blown with the wind. The bathroom door opened and the sink was turned on. Ink infected the water with black. Looking in the mirror ,while the hands washed with soap. An image shown in the mirror, a girl. About 14 years of age. Her long black hair hung limply down her body. Pieces of hair stuck to her round face. Thick rimed glasses covered her slanted crimson eyes. The water turned off, Drying off her hands, the remaining bits of ink rubbed off. "Michiko!", a faint voice cried from the kitchen.

Everyone was waiting at the table staring at their plates with voracious eyes. Wanting to devour the food steaming on the plates. Crimson eyed girl sat down on an empty chair. Eyes looked at her before saying, "itadakimasu!". The crimson eyed girl repeat quietly before picking up her chopsticks and eating along with everyone else. "What was taking so long upstairs Michiko?", the mother asked stuffing chicken into her mouth. Michiko finished the food in her mouth before answering her, "I washed my hands". Michiko looked at the palm of her hand. A clearing of the throat made the family's head turn. "So you started drawing again", the father spoke closing his eyes. A memory played in his head making him laugh, "I'm glad". He picked up his chopsticks and began eating again. Michiko's crimson eyes flashed at her father. Slowly she began eating again. "_It's good your pursuing your dream again_". The family looked

wary at the two back and forth. Michiko finished the last tidbits on her plate before excusing herself from the table. Shuffling her way back to her room, the door slammed violently behind her. "what does he know about _my _dreams.", was the last words that escaped Michiko's lips. She looked around the room. Failed drawings crumpled and placed arbitrarily on the floor. Rage began burgeoning inside Michiko. She would never be the best. Always looking down on her drawings, her aspiration of becoming a shoujo manga artist seemed remotely impossible. No matter how many times people said, "That's nice" or "Keep up the good work", it never dawned on Michiko that her drawings were, "good". Michiko walked out of her room and into the bathroom again. After finishing her oral hygiene maintenance, she scurried back to her room, pulling off her cloths and putting her night gown on. She finally climbed into bed and closed her eyes.

It was August 29th 2008,that day. "The lines are too thick and there's not enough differentiation between characters and background". Mashiro's face hid behind his bangs. Editor Hattori Akira empathized with Mashiro, "Have you thought about getting an assistant to help with the inking and backgrounds? It would give you less work so you can focus on the character drawings." Takagi looked over at Mashiro, "Hey, weren't you talking about wanting an assistant?". Mashiro nodded, "Hai, but I doubt we'd find a pretty descent assistant". He spoke truthfully, The Editor and Takagi nodded in agreement. Hattori looked through the manuscript again. His wide-eyes never missed a single detail. "Well, I think I might know someone who can help you guys". Mashiro and Takagi smiled ,"Really?"

* * *

Michiko had woken up late that afternoon. The sun didn't shine threw her window., the blinds where down. She looked over at her alarm clock, 2pm. She groaned and pushed the covers away. Groggily she walked out of her room and into the bathroom. A nice shower would wake her up. She stripped out of her clothing, turned on the water, and got in the shower. The hot water soothed and massaged Michiko's skin. Her wet black hair clung to her body. Steam filled the small bathroom. Pouring a quarter size amount of shampoo into her palm, Michiko began scrubbing her hair. The Scent of lavender filled her nose. Not too soon did she finished her shower. Michiko opened the door and steam began pouring out. A towel wrapped tightly around her emaciated body. Footsteps could be heard making their way up the stairs. A gentleman in his mid-30's appeared in the hall. Michiko looked at the heads of the others who came up after the gentleman. Two teenagers. Both were dressed formally, one had glasses and silvery white hair, while the other had dark blue hair. Michiko blushed and held onto her towel, the fact that she was standing in front of three guys with nothing but a towel covering her unadulterated body, "Oi, Editor Hattori-san, what are you doing in my home?". Wide-eyed Hattori grinned his pursed lips began to form words, "Hey hey Michi-Michi, these two aspiring mangakas need an assistant to help with there-", Michiko glared at Hattori, "I don't do that kind of stuff anymore". Hattori pouted, "But, your dad said you started drawing again. Your really good Michi, Why did you give up on your dreams?". Michiko walked across the hall to her room, her hand rested on the knob, her face hid behind her bangs, "I'll never be that good", she turned the knob and closed the door behind her.

* * *

It was August 29th 2008,1:30pm at the _Weekly Shonen Jump _building. "Yes, her name is Michiko Mashaminoto, an aspiring shoujo mangaka. Her drawings are meticulous, her inking and backgrounds are precise too. I believe I have an example of her work", Hattori stood up, "I'll go get it". Mashiro and Takagi looked at each other, "This could be the help we need to get serialized" "yeah, I know". A few minutes passed before editor Hattori had come back with a piece of paper in his hand, "Sorry, all I have is a picture she made when she was seven". He held the paper out for the two boys to see it. They stared, gaping in astonishment. It had been a portrait of Hattori-san himself. The fine lines that formed to make his face had been perfect and detailed. Mashiro and Takagi looked at each other the same time, they were thinking the same thing, 'We definitely need her.'


End file.
